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That was a crease when she wasn’t bent this extremely, and the flesh was more tender than the ass itself was.“Owwuch! That hurt.”“It was supposed to hurt. Stay down.” He had both hands on her back as he shuffled around behind her.The next four slaps hurt Faith less. She figured, though, that Terry could go all night with switching his hands this way.The last left-handed slap was just his fingers, not his palm, where her butt met her right thigh. That did hurt as much as the right-handed one did.“Whadya know,” Terry -- or maybe Jack -- said from behind her. “They’re starting to get pink.”Before the spanks resumed, he stroked the left ass cheek. His fingers strayed onto her labia.“Jack!” she said. After all, Terry was entitled; Jack was a virtual stranger.“Well, you saw me.”“I might have seen you. I didn’t feel you.”“So, you wanted to feel me, did you?” Jack said.The slap which followed was hard and unexpected.“Ouch!”“That one you felt,” Jack said. Terry knew damned-well what she. Then down into me again. Over and over, fucking my ass. I bounced on the bed, meeting his pounding cock. Frenzied with the sensations. Feeling filled. Fulfilled. "More! More!" Faster!"He went faster. Breathing heavily. Hot breath on the nape of my neck. Pounding, pounding, against my ass. Stretching, slipping, sliding in and out. I matched his rhythm, raising myself to meet him. Being hammered by his strong thrusts. Then I felt myself reaching orgasm."I'm going to cum. Your cock in my ass... making me cum."Tensing. Tightening my ass round the shaft of his cock.Shooting my cum onto the towel below me. "Oh god. So intense." Cumming from his cock inside me."Yes, sweet ass baby. Cum while I fuck you."No hands.Big cum. I soaked the towel.Then I felt him shove himself deeper and faster into my little ass."Now it's my turn." "Yes. In me. Cum in my ass." I wriggled under him. Trying to help him.Banging into me Pow, Pow, Pow, Pow, slamming his body against my ass. Ramming his cock into me..
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I was happy enough to let them talk, inserting a comment of my own every now and then. Cheryl and I returned to our room after dinner. She usually turns on the TV then, and watches whatever drivel catches her eye. But this evening she fussed with her clothing and such in her suitcase as she asked me questions about Trevor - questions she already knew the answers to...was he married, did he have kids, what kinds of activities was he into...things like that. Innocent, interested questions. In the end, she declared that he was a nice man, then succumbed to the lure of the television. Next day, Wednesday, I met Trevor in the lobby and he took me to the local office where we got started on his project. I was amused that he was asking questions about Cheryl. Questions not unlike those she had asked. In the meantime, Cheryl had the day to kill with shopping - I had left her with my truck to get around with. That evening we invited Trevor to dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in the.

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